


Dinner

by doctormissy



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Cooking, Crack, Fluff, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor invites Jo to come to his house (yeah he lives in a house) for dinner, the Master doesn't completely approve and they end up arguing about who cooks. Fluff and crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Three/Master dream I had on 6th Jan. I often have fanfiction dreams (for example today) and I don't usually write it, but this one I had too.

„Do you want to come over for dinner? Bring Mike if you want to,” suggested the Doctor to his friend/assistant Jo Grant, putting on his red velvet jacket and smiling. He was about to leave the laboratory and go home; his work here in UNIT was finished for today. The supposedly alien tissue samples which were supposed to be delivered to him two days ago still weren’t there, his constant attempts to repair his TARDIS’s Dematerialization Circuit failed again (with a blast caused by accidental connection of wires that weren’t supposed to be connected), so he gave up and said he’ll continue tomorrow. The only thing he’s done today was reparation of UNIT’s kettle and one submachine gun with a stuck trigger. 

“Oh, I would like to. I haven’t been at your place for ages!” she replied, taking her purse from the chair standing next to the door. “What are you making?” 

“I have absolutely no idea, Jo. What would you like to have?” He remembered that the Master should’ve done the shopping today and thought that he probably _didn’t_ , so he will have to do it on the way to the house anyway. The Master wasn’t really good at it.

“I don’t know, surprise me. I should be going by now, see you later. I’ll ask Mike if he would like to go.” Jo smiled with that bright and sincere smile of hers and turned to the exit. The Doctor checked the lab once again and followed her to the car park. He got in his beloved yellow Bessie and headed towards London’s centre and in the meantime he was trying to think of something to cook for dinner. 

He wasn’t even a mile away from UNIT HQ when he beheld the Master walking against him. He was carrying a paper bag in an armful; he _did_ the shopping after all. “Going home, my dear Doctor? Good for me, I’d have to walk all the way otherwise.”

The Doctor stopped the car so the Master could get in. He put the bag on one the back seat and sat next to the Doctor; then he kissed him and moved a little closer. “Yes, apparently. I am surprised that you haven’t forgotten about the grocery shopping, old chap.” He grinned and started the car up again. 

“What do you think of me, I always do what I promised.”

“And what are you doing here anyway?”

“I thought you’re still in your lab, digging in your old non-functional piece of rubbish you call a spaceship.”

“Excuse me; my TARDIS is in perfect condition. And no, I had nothing much to do today. By the way, I invited Jo and Yates for dinner.” The Master gave him the the-hell-why? look and wanted to protest, but he dealt with it and sat in silence instead. “Did you at least buy something useful for cooking?” The Doctor turned to him, raising his eyebrows. 

“Some potatoes and a whole frozen bird as you told me. And a bottle of red wine, the one you enjoyed so much when we were in that noble restaurant downtown last week.”

“Oh, you’ve noticed?”

“Who wouldn’t, you drank three bottles of it.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

“Do you?”

“I thought it doesn’t need saying, Koschei. You knew.”

It’s been a long time since someone said that name. He reached out to give him another quick kiss. “Not now, I have to concentrate on the road.”

“So what will you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“For dinner.”

“Nothing. You cook.”

“What do you mean? You know I am not very good at--”

“I made dinner last three times, Master. It’s your turn now.”


End file.
